


Burnt Bridges

by Tia



Series: Slow Burn - the series [3]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tia/pseuds/Tia
Summary: More scenes that don't fit directly into 'Slow Burn' but that are mentioned by the characters.
Relationships: Matthew Casey & Kelly Severide, Matthew Casey/Gabriela Dawson, Sylvie Brett & Kelly Severride, Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: Slow Burn - the series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667530
Comments: 13
Kudos: 81





	Burnt Bridges

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually the original beginning of 'Slow Burn' until I changed things to the charity auction. 
> 
> Timeline wise is the beginning of Season 7; so just after Gabby left for PR. Some of it no longer makes sense in context of the current story, but it's still a cute couple of scenes, and gives a bit more insight to Severride and Brett's friendship as well.

“Hey, thanks for this.” Casey said to Severride as they waved at Sgt. Platt, waiting for acknowledgment before they climbed the stairs up to the Intelligence Unit’s bullpen. “I’ll have my truck back tonight; it’s just in for some routine maintenance.”

“You really need to upgrade your ride, man.” Severride shook his head. “You’ve had that thing since we started at 51, practically.”

“It’s dependable and it gets the job done.” Casey replied patiently, as he did every time they had this conversation. “Hey Antonio, Jay.”

His brother in law jerked his head in a nod of greeting, but didn’t offer his hand to shake, instead crossing his arms and leaning back against one of the desks. Halstead was standing near the windows, relaxed but watchful.

Casey paused, taking a hard look at Antonio. The other man had always been edgy and scruffy, a habit carried over from his days undercover on Vice, but his eyes were also bloodshot and tired, and there was a sallowness to his skin that the firefighter didn’t like.

“You bring the keys?”

The two firefighters exchanged a look at the abrupt tone. “Right here,” Casey answered, tossing them on the desk. “All the necessary paperwork is in the glove compartment, and I packed up all the little mementos and clothes that Gabby forgot the last time she slunk through while I was on shift.”

He was still a bit bitter about that one, though she had explained that the timing for a same day flight in and out didn’t allow time for her to linger and wait until he was off. He hadn’t liked the excuse, and told her so, but had brushed it off. Mostly.

Antonio stood up straighter at his tone, bristling. “You got something to say about my sister, you spit it out straight.” He snapped. “It’s not her fault that you weren’t man enough to keep her here in the first place!”

Casey lunged at him, enraged, Severride barely catching him as Halstead moved closer and Voight appeared in the doorway. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he retorted. “Back the hell off, Antonio.”

“Oh, don’t I?” Ignoring the warning, the other man moved closer, getting into Casey’s face. “Gabby is now leading the relief effort- heading a team of about forty. Doctors, lawyers, EMTs, firefighters.” His smile was cold and nasty. “And guess who has become her right-hand man while you sit alone in your apartment, wondering what you did wrong? One Peter Mills.” He shook his head slowly, clicking his teeth as Casey froze. “She looks happier than I’ve ever seen her…practically glowing, in fact.”

His insinuation – that Gabby had cheated on her husband with her former flame and was now pregnant – was crystal clear to everyone in the room.

Casey lunged at him with another yell and Severride let him go, watching in satisfaction as his friend got in a few nice punches before Halstead and Voight broke it up. The Sargent shoved Antonio towards his office, growling, but the former cop had one last blow.

“The real reason that I called you up here is in the envelope. You can take the divorce papers with you – Gabby already signed them. Be sure to send them Priority mail – no reason to drag this out any more than it already has been.”

Voight shoved him the rest of the way into his office, slamming the door so hard that the windows rattled, yet still didn’t completely muffle the furious yelling.

Casey was shell-shocked, staring at the manila envelope in horror. Halstead and Severride exchanged a glance, before the detective moved forward.

“Hey. I’m so incredibly sorry about all of that,” he said, gesturing helplessly. “There’s no excuse whatsoever for what he just did.” He reached his hand out but put it back down when Casey flinched away from him. “Antonio…he’s on his way out. Permanently. The entire Dawson clan transported to Puerto Rico to help out where they can, if they can. Antonio is going to join them, after he gets clean.” He shook his head, moving forward until Casey finally looked up at him. “Anything that you need, personal or professional, all you have to do is ask. I mean it. We still got you, man.”

That seemed to shake Casey out of his shock enough to offer a ghost of a nod, before walking away.

Severride grimaced at Halstead, picking up the envelope and pointing it at him. “That was a dirty as fuck thing to do. We’re on our way to shift, and now he has to deal with this shit?” He gestured pointedly at the door to Voight’s office. “Make sure that piece of shit gets the hell out of Chicago and doesn’t come back.”

The detective was silent as he stalked away.

Casey was waiting in the car when Severride slid into the driver’s seat. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The Lt. eyed his friend warily. “Casey– “

“We need to go now or else we’re going to be late.”

Gritting his teeth, Severride complied, knowing that he was going to have to call in reinforcements, and mentally listing off who he needed specifically to talk to.

Casey had a bad habit of taking gut shots and burying the pain deep, turning his job into an outlet instead. Which was fine for most other jobs, but a firefighter that led with his instincts and emotions often ended up dead.

They arrived minutes before morning briefing, so Severride didn’t have time to corner anyone. However, Chief Boden missed nothing in his house, especially when it came to his officers. He immediately noticed the slightly dangerous look in his Truck Captain’s eyes and turned to his Squad Lt. with raised eyebrows.

Severride shook his head slightly and received a nod in return as he went to lean against the wall in his favored spot.

Satisfied that things were being handled and that the Lt. would brief and update him if and when needed, the Chief turned his attention to the morning announcements and roll call.

Casey did disappear immediately to his office, so Severride signaled for Herrmann, Kidd, and Cruz to follow him out to the app floor to talk privately. He had briefly thought about bringing Brett into the conversation too but knew that the fact that Antonio being the one to deliberately hurt Casey like that would just needlessly upset the paramedic even more than she currently was about Dawson’s abrupt departure.

“Hey, just a heads up: Casey’s had a rough morning, so you three need to help me watch his stubborn ass,” he began bluntly. “Without going into too much detail, Antonio told him that Dawson and Mills have reconnected in Puerto Rico and are working closely together.” He shook his head in disgust. “He also insinuated that they’re back together and that she might be pregnant – right before he gave Casey the divorce papers.”

The others gasped, Herrmann turning a dull shade of red. “Sounds like we need to take a ride over to District 21 after shift,” he growled.

“I’ll drive.” Cruz offered grimly, clenching his fists.

“How is Casey doing?” Kidd broke in, placing a calming hand on Herrmann’s arm. “And why would Antonio lie like that? Even if Mills is down in Puerto Rico, Dawson wouldn’t betray Casey like that. Not while they’re still married.”

“Casey already gave mister Golden Gloves a beautiful black eye and a broken nose that only improved his ugly mug.” Severride said dryly. “While Voight and Halstead were in the room and close enough to break it up, by the way. And Antonio has hit rock bottom on all levels, which is why he’s going to Puerto Rico – to check in to the rehab center down there and be surrounded by his entire family, who also made the move. This was just his way of sharing his misery and bitterness. Anyway, he’s gone now, so let it go.”

The guys nodded reluctantly.

“Casey is dealing with it how he always deals with things – by burying it,” He continued. “The reason that I’m telling you guys this is because he tends to – “

“-go off book and risk his neck unnecessarily by being stupid and reckless on calls,” Herrmann nodded knowingly.

“-take more chances than usual, and therefore needs you guys to watch his six if I’m not there to do it,” Severride finished pointedly. “I haven’t told Boden anything, because there’s nothing work related to tell. I expect you three to do the same with the rest of the house – especially Brett.” He eyed Cruz, who flushed guiltily before nodding.

The alarm bells went off before they could respond, calling Truck, Squad and Ambo to the rescue of a man trapped. Herrmann caught Severride’s eye and nodded grimly as he finally saw the dangerous spark in Casey’s eyes. The Lt. grimaced in reply as they loaded up and headed out.

It should have been a simple save – a man trapped underneath a slowly descending elevator. Dangerous, because of the time limitations, but still well within their realms of expertise. Severride turned to give directions, only to yell.

“Casey!”

His cry was echoed by the others as he disappeared into the narrow hole under the elevator.

“Dammit!” Severride cursed. “Otis, go shut off this elevator! Cruz, Capp, cribbing, whatever you carry, and the jaws! Herrmann, Kidd, Mouch, get your pike poles up to brace!”

They all leapt into action. Below, Casey tried to stop the elevator with his halogen against the gears, creating a shower of sparks but doing little to stop the multi-ton metal box’s descent. He continued talking, soothing the victim and joking that they were about up close and personal friendly in a minute. Which they did, scrambling to lay flat on their backs side by side and trying not to panic.

The elevator finally stopped.

“Casey! You okay down there?” Severride called, as the rest of the team held their breaths. It had gotten way too quiet down there…

“Uh…a little cramped, actually.” Came the sheepish reply.

There was a collective exhale of relief that had more than a few curse words breathed into it. Severride closed his eyes, not sure if he was going to hug or hit the idiot when they pulled him out.

He came close to hitting him when Casey climbed out, all business like he hadn’t just done something that he would’ve reamed the others out for until he was hoarse. Leaving Cruz and the others to finish up and help the medics, he followed the other man outside.

“Hey. Not to step on your Captainness, but how about not throwing yourself into harm’s way before we get a clear-eyed assessment of the call.” There. Hint of reprimand, but not enough confrontation to raise hackles and defenses. One of them had to stay level-headed, and unfortunately, it looked like it was going to be him.

Casey stopped and stared at him for a long moment. The other man met his gaze levelly, waiting.

“I just reacted.”

“Yeah-like you had a death wish.” Severride retorted, finally letting a hint of anger show.

Casey walked away without replying.

Herrmann shot him a questioning look as he came out, silently asking if he should say anything on the way back to the house. Severride shook his head. While the older firefighter and Boden were both like surrogate fathers to him and Casey, this situation called for a more brotherly approach.

Over a decade of friendship and fighting for and with each other meant that they had a pretty good idea of when to push (shove) and when to back off. Severride had no problem goading Casey into getting some of that excess emotion out and was probably the only one left who could get through to him without lasting harm.

Back at the house, Severride let Casey escape back into his office while he hung out in the common room, ate some breakfast, and got some paperwork done. There was still no call for Truck or Squad after an hour, so he finally made his way to Casey’s quarters, knocking twice before letting himself in.

Casey glanced up briefly. “What’s up?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Severride replied, watching the other man’s shoulders tense.

“You’re going to have to be more – “

“Have you called Dawson yet? Gotten the full story from her? Antonio is likely blowing smoke up your ass, just because he can. He’s always been a spiteful little fucker.” Actually, Severride had never had a personal problem with the brunette, but that was a moot point.

“No. I haven’t. I don’t know if I even want to.” Casey turned to face him, running a hand tiredly over his face.

“If you don’t, the what ifs are gonna get you killed, man.” Severride said bluntly. “And then Chief will make Herrmann Truck Lieutenant, and it’s way too hard to teach a grumpy old dog new tricks. Besides, I’ve invested too much time and blood, sweat, and tears in you to let you do something stupid now.”

Poking at each other, teasing and snarking, was their way of communication, making sure the underlying message was heard and acknowledged.

Casey snorted, but Severride saw his shoulders relax slightly, some of the tension that he had gathered in bracing for a confrontation leaving him. “Well, in the interest of saving you from having to actually work…” he said sardonically. “I said that I didn’t call, but we haven’t talked in over a month anyway. I did send her a text though, mentioning that I gave her car keys to Antonio and that he mentioned that Mills was down there with her helping out. She hasn’t responded yet.”

That was a typical Casey response; measured and thoughtful, no matter how he was personally feeling about the situation. Severride rolled his eyes.

“In that case, let me try something from another angle,” he said, pulling out his phone and typing.

“What are you doing?”

“I am texting Mills. **‘Hey Mills, might be coming through NC and thought I would stop over and see the family, catch up. You gonna be in town?** ’”

A few seconds later a reply bubble appeared.

_‘Hey! Sorry, no – am out of the country for a while. My sister Elise would love to see you though, so stop through and check out the restaurant. Food’s on the house, of course.’_

**‘Out of the country! What are you doing, backpacking through Europe?’**

_‘Nah – I wish! Chief Hatcher contacted me about a month ago, asking me to help with the relief effort in Puerto Rico since I have crossover experience as a firefighter and an EMT.’_

“Well, that confirms it.” Casey said, gesturing. “At the very least, he’s down there. At most, everything Antonio said was true.”

“You and Dawson are still married,” Severride reminded him sharply. “Whatever she may feel about Mills now, she wouldn’t betray you like that.”

“No, her specialty is running away when someone tells her no, and then finding a way to get what she wants anyway.” Casey muttered resentfully, letting the anger wash through him anew.

Maybe it was petty, but quite frankly he was tired and hurt and pissed that this was how his marriage was going to end – with the woman who had once his best friend, confident, his lover and his life, almost above everything else.

Gabby had been there from the beginning, had helped him through his grief over losing Hallie and dealing with the issues with his mother and sister, among other countless things.

But she had wanted it all too. She wanted to be a firefighter. He supported her. She wanted to be a Candidate on Truck 81, and she was. She had pushed him to run for Alderman, and he had, reluctantly. She wanted to foster Louie, with or without him – and she did.

The one major thing that they had disagreed on was over starting a family. She wanted a biological child. He wanted her alive and safe.

He said no, and she ran to Puerto Rico.

Casey knew intellectually that it wasn’t nearly as simple as he was making it out to be in his head. But emotionally, at that point, he didn’t particularly give a damn.

“It is what it is.” He said abruptly. “Mills is there. Whatever else Dawson says – if anything – doesn’t matter now. I signed the papers. As soon as they’re notarized, its done. She’s not mine to ask about anything anymore either way.”

Severride didn’t, couldn’t say anything, could only watch as his friend visibly shook himself, straightening his shoulders and offering a practiced smile.

“Don’t worry, Sev. It won’t get in the way of my doing my job anymore.” He said, turning away.

Severride sighed, moving to grip the other man’s shoulder for a long moment before silently leaving, closing the door behind him.

Casey was true to his word, leading Truck out on a few other calls that didn’t require Squad’s assistance and getting the save without issue, quickly and efficiently. He returned to his office each time and the others respected the silent request for privacy, even if not all of them knew the reason why.

By dinner time though, Brett had had enough. She left the common room to make her way to Casey’s office, pausing just out of sight. She was unsurprised to see that he was hunched over at his desk, working. Even at a distance, she could see the slight drop of his broad shoulders and the exhaustion running through every line of his body. Something was going on; the others had been unusually subdued throughout the day, only gradually starting to relax well into the afternoon. They were being stubborn about it though - not even Cruz had given in and told her what had happened.

She returned her attention to the man in front of her, thinking. Really, he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. She couldn’t help him with that if he didn’t want it, but she could be a good friend and coax him out of hiding for a while, offering the balm of simple companionship without expecting anything in return.

Decision made, she knocked lightly on the door.

He looked up, automatically offering a warm smile when he saw who his visitor was. She frowned inwardly at the tired look in his blue eyes, but didn’t comment, instead returning the smile

“Hey. Chow’s up,” she said. “Kidd made her special double meat spaghetti, so come and get it before the ravenous wolves in there devour it all.” Seeing him open his mouth to refuse, she added, “She also made caramel brownies, and then stipulated that no one was getting dessert until everyone had eaten dinner. If you don’t get in there they might revolt.”

That made him grin as he stood and stretched, wincing as his back protested the sudden movement after sitting nearly all day. Brett watched with female appreciation as the motion made his shirt ride up, revealing tanned skin and a hint of taut stomach and toned muscles.

“After you,” he said, gesturing, but she shook her head, holding up her hands, her eyes wide.

“You’re the one who runs into burning buildings and hostile situations,” she teased. “And you’re also currently the last man standing between Mouch and dessert. Lead on, Captain.”

He laughed and complied, blinking at the bright lights of the common room in comparison to his shadowed office. Brett headed directly to the counter and he followed suit, warily eyeing the exorbitant amount that Kidd piled onto the plate she handed to Severride. “Looks good.” He ignored the look his friend shot him as he accepted his own plate and turned to find a seat.

He watched the noodle slurping contest that Capp, Cruz and Otis were having for a moment, eyeing the mess that they were making, before once again following Brett to sit down next to her and the new paramedic at the smaller circular table behind the couch.

“Matt Casey, this is Emily Foster.” Brett sent him a restrained smile. “She’s been with the CFD for 3 months and has survived both McCauley and McDougal, so go easy on her. She’s already had her trial by fire, so to speak.”

Casey winced sympathetically, swallowing his mouthful of food. “Mister Doom and Gloom Eeyore himself, and Sourpuss McDougal? Ouch.” He nudged the blonde playfully as he took another bite. “You’re in good hands with this one. Just don’t let her control the radio and you’ll be golden.”

He grinned as she scowled; this was a familiar, long standing argument. “Shut up! My music tastes are awesome, thank you very much.”

“I’ve seen your music collection. It’s very…you.” He said blandly as Foster watched in amusement. He leaned over and whispered, “Be warned, she owns nothing earlier than maybe 2000.”

“I figured that I would wait until I got a few shifts under my belt before I started radio negotiations.” Foster laughed. “McCauley and McDougal preferred talk radio and stony silence, respectively, so just about anything will be a welcome change.”

“Unless that change is the Taylor Swift station on Spotify …” Casey mumbled through a mouthful of food as Brett sputtered.

“First of all, Taylor Swift is the voice for an entire generation.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Second of all, ignore Casey; his idea of music is yelling and screaming and instruments in a combination that sounds like a bunch of toddlers who all got drum sets, guitars, and keyboards for Christmas.” She finished haughtily.

“You have no appreciation for the subtleties of hard rock.”

“Because it’s about as subtle as Otis with a crush,” she retorted.

“Hey! I resemble that remark!” Otis called cheerfully from the other table, not missing a beat.

Foster was giggling at the lively byplay. Casey winked at her and scraped the last of his food off of his plate before taking it and Brett’s over to the trash can. “Are you guys always like this?”

They looked at each other, then at her.

“He’s a bad influence.”

“She’s a bad influence.”

“Don’t be suckered by the blue-eyed duo over there,” Cruz interjected this time. “They’re both troublemakers.”

Casey crumpled a piece of paper and tossed it at him with a mock scowl. “Thanks, Cruz. Kidd, no brownies for Cruz.”

She smirked at the other firefighter as he protested. “You got it, Captain.” Scooping a few brownies onto two different plates, she set one in front of Brett and Foster, and held the other out in front of Casey. “So, Cap, I need some practice driving the truck before my recert comes up. Any chance I can get behind the wheel next shift?”

“Aw, come on!” Otis yelped. “That’s bribery!”

Casey ignored him to eye her and the plate. “Those Cindy Herrmann brownies?”

“Of course.”

“Deal.” He nodded, taking the plate and stuffing a brownie in his mouth.

“Casey!”

He chewed quickly, enjoying the rich burst of flavors on his tongue before swallowing. “You and Otis can alternate. You drive out for one call, then he gets the next. If one of you gets to drive more than the other, then they get to make it up the following shift.” He shrugged when Kidd opened her mouth to protest. “You just said ‘behind the wheel’. You didn’t set the terms.”

She closed her mouth with a huff. “Fine,” she grumped.

Comfortably full and unexpectedly buoyed by the lighthearted normality of 51, Casey took his plate of brownies with him and squeezed next to Tuesday the Dalmatian on the couch next to Mouch to watch the evening news.

At the other table, Severride raised his water bottle towards his girlfriend in a silent toast. Kidd grinned and winked at him before returning to washing the dishes. He had been a bit skeptical when she had told him about her plan to bring Casey out of his cave, but it had worked like a charm.

“Brett is my secret weapon. There’s not a person in this house with testosterone that can say no to her without feeling like an utter jackass.” She had informed him smugly. “Not even you, and definitely not Casey.”

Severride had frowned. “That’s because she never asks for anything.”

That was truer than he realized, the more he thought about it. Except for one time, Sylvie Brett had survived nearly six years at firehouse 51 without incident. She had gone through – he counted – five partners, all of them headstrong and assertive and arrogant and ambitious, and she hadn’t complained once that he knew of.

“How is she doing, with all of this? Dawson left her behind too.”

Kidd had smiled sadly at him. “Stoically cheerful, like someone else we know.” She glanced over at the doorway as Casey and Brett appeared, giving Severride an affectionate bump with her hip before moving away to dish up a few more plates.

He accepted his plate resignedly, taking his usual spot at the end of the table, where he could observe the entire room, but specifically Casey and Brett. An idea was slowly growing in the back of his mind, but he wanted to do some more research and see how things developed first.

Severride was of the personal opinion that Gabriella Dawson wasn’t worth wasting any more time, thought, or energy on, although he was well aware that neither Casey nor Brett would feel the same. Still, they had to keep looking and moving forward in their line of work, so he knew it would be a short matter of time before they were ready to get back out into the world.

For his part, he would do a better job of keeping an eye on them, and do his best to start engaging with Brett and getting to know her better. Even though she was close with Kidd, Cruz and Otis, he knew that she still tended to keep her private hurts to herself and focus her energy on helping her friends work out their own problems. Kind of like someone else he knew. That was okay though; after dealing with Casey’s stubborn ass for over a decade, sweet little Sylvie Brett would probably be a pushover. He just had to wait for his opportunity…

***

As it so happened, it took a few shifts and a mystery of a man driving his SUV off of an overpass for Severride to move forward with his plan. Kidd had helped with the initial research, but she had admitted that she might be more hindrance than help in actually searching for the animal.

“I’m a born and raised city girl,” she had said wryly. “You have some experience, since your dad hunts and fishes, but Brett is the resident country girl. You may want to pull her in on this.”

“Thanks for helping me out with this.” Severride said, grabbing his flashlight and cell before getting out of his car.

“Of course. I’m just not quite sure why you asked me,” Brett replied as she followed him. “I thought Kidd was helping you with this case, and I’m just a paramedic – “

“You’re more observant than you realize, and you have wildlife experience,” he replied, glancing at her. “You noticed that the victim might not have been wearing his seatbelt when he was ejected. That’s a detail that all of my guys missed on their reports, and it’s important because it is additional evidence that he had turned to look at his son when the deer supposedly ran out into the road. Don’t sell yourself short, Brett.”

She stared at his back, caught off guard by the matter of fact compliment. “Thanks.”

They moved deeper into the tall grasses, looking for something, anything that might corroborate with the man’s story.

“I still don’t quite understand how a deer was on an overpass in the first place.” Severride said after a moment. “I’m more of a fisherman than a hunter though.”

“It’s rare, but it was crossing a section of the river, so maybe it was trying to get to the water? Went up the ramp and over the bridge instead of down?” she mused, moving her light in slow sweeps over the ground. “The victim was across the overpass, about to descend down to street level. That exit up there leads to the Riverwalk eventually, but all of this over here hasn’t been developed and mowed and maintained yet.” She reached down, running her fingers through the soft grass. “This wild grass is irresistible to deer and it emits a certain scent when it drops its seeds. In a concrete jungle, it and the water would’ve been a beacon to wildlife.” She stopped abruptly. “I think I found something.”

He moved over to study the large patches of dried blood, before swinging his flashlight up to check the angle and distance to the road above.

“Probably was trying to get to the trees, under shelter,” he said, gesturing.

They followed the trail deeper.

“Severride.”

“Well damn.”

They both stared at the mangled body of the young buck, flies buzzing around in the still night.

“Nice work,” he praised, nudging her companionably before pulling out his phone. “We should probably call the Department of Transportation so they can come dispose of the body before it decomposes and possibly contaminates the local water supply.”

“On it,” she nodded, pulling out her own phone as he took pictures.

They returned to his car to wait. It was a warm night, so Brett leaned against the hood, tilting her head back and closing her eyes, enjoying the peace.

Severride took the opportunity to study her. The woman was a bit of an enigma to him, but he was genuinely fond of her, despite not quite being able to define their relationship, even after six years of working side by side.

Brett was unique; beautiful and peripherally aware of it, quietly confident and silk over steel when it came to stubbornness and going beyond the parameters of her job.

She was also the first and only woman that he had invited go to Vegas with him within barely two weeks of their meeting, and the only woman with whom he had never actively flirted with or hit on. Not even Shay and Dawson were exempt from that particular honor, although with them there had always been a competitive, playful teasing edge that leaned more towards three confident, attractive people going toe to toe for the hell and fun of it.

But with Brett…maybe it was because she reminded him so much of Shay at moments that it still took his breath away for missing his best friend. Maybe it was because she herself had drawn the line, deliberately maintaining a distance between them and gravitating more towards Casey. Which also made sense, he mused. It was no secret that the reason that he and Casey worked (usually) so well together was because they were as opposite in personality and approaches to life as, well, Dawson and Brett. Chaotic, intense energy, versus deliberate calm and control.

“You’re thinking awfully deep thoughts over there.” Brett said without opening her eyes. “What’s going on in that head of yours? I can feel the laser glare from here.”

Severride smiled ruefully at having been caught out. “You, actually,” he admitted. “I think that this is the first time that we’ve actually spent time together, outside of the firehouse or Molly’s.”

“Well, you did ask me to go with you to Vegas within a week of us meeting, and then when I didn’t go, you came back married, so…” She opened her eyes enough to shoot him an amused sidelong look as she unconsciously echoed his thoughts. “Kind of hard to tell where to go from there.”

He snorted. “That was six years ago, Brett.”

“You were married for a _month_ , Severride. To a pretty, blue eyed blonde. Most of your previous relationships were less than a weekend,” She retorted. “Now, either you have a type, which is no longer true because all of your relationships since then have been brunettes – “

“What?”

“–although I don’t know if Jenna actually counts, since she didn’t even last twenty-four hours – “

“-how do you know – “

“Spin class.” She answered, not missing a beat. “Jenna – not Jennifer – is in my spin class. She was also in Cruz’s Zumba class for a while, but he stopped teaching, so now I just see her once a week.” She snickered at his shell-shocked expression. “After Britt, your _wife_ , there was Jenna, Anna, and now Stella. Again, all brunettes. So, like I was saying, the one woman you actually married had some striking physical resemblances to me, and you invited me first to go with you to Sin City. Talk about mixed signals and dodged bullets, big guy.” She teased, before growing serious. “And I came in when you were still visibly grieving over Shay’s death. I know how much we look alike, Kelly. I didn’t want to shove that reminder in your face, so I just – backed off. Figured that you would make a move to change things when you were ready.” She eyed him. “Is that what this is?”

He shrugged, still processing. He honestly hadn’t meant to bring it up, but the whole fiasco with Dawson and some of the other medics that had come through 51 – Chili and Jimmy topping that list – had made him take a second look at the silk over steel woman who had had to weather each storm, essentially alone.

He had failed the others by not looking as closely as he should have, as an officer in the house. It was time to change that and show some support to the quietly fiercest woman he knew.

“I guess it is,” he admitted finally. “Everyone is so focused on Casey, but how are you doing, with Dawson gone?”

A bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention, she gave a one-armed shrug. “I was hurt – still am. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Dawson made her choice.” She shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ears as she stared out into the night. “Foster is settling in nicely, although it’s a bit strange, finally being the PIC. But she’s solid, if a bit impulsive.”

“Something that you have absolutely no experience with whatsoever,” Severride said dryly, making her smile. “And I wasn’t asking about work. How are you doing?”

She shot him a skeptical look. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

“Because you, Sylvie Brett, are one of the most steady and consistent women in my life, and I didn’t realize it until recently.”

She flushed, her eyes wide. “Severride – “

“You’re also gorgeous and smart, and you may or may not be on to something in your comparisons of you and Britt,” he added, just to see her reaction.

“That’s just wrong,” she laughed, not believing him for a second. “You are so not my type. You’re too much trouble.”

“You couldn’t handle me anyway.” He winked.

“There’s that, too.” She agreed solemnly. “Stick to brunettes, Kelly. Specifically, brunettes named Stella Kidd.”

He sighed dramatically. “So you’re saying we don’t have a chance?”

“I’m pretty sure that Stella could kick both our asses, so no, Kelly. Plus, she’s prettier than you are.”

“She is not.”

She shoved him lightly away, laughing softly. Severride let himself go with the motion, before coming back to lean against her shoulder. “Don’t think that I didn’t notice that you avoided my question.”

“I’m fine.”

He shifted to face her fully, brows raised, waiting.

“Or I will be. I always am, sooner or later.” She amended, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice. “It’s just my file that will now show that I’ve gone through five different partners in my time at 51, but who cares about that? Or the fact that I’m always the one gets hit with the backlash of everyone else’s harebrained, impulsive decisions, but that doesn’t matter either. They’re all gone, moved on with their life, and I’m still here. By the book, boring Brett.”

Severride winced, pulling her into his chest and tucking her under his chin, feeling the hot rush of tears as she sobbed quietly, finally releasing some of the pent-up emotions and resentments of the past and present.

“Sorry,” she mumbled after a few moments, pulling away and hastily wiping her face. He let her put some space between them, watching as she quickly and efficiently recomposed herself. “God, where is that DoT guy? Maybe I should call again…”

“They’re tied up with cleanup. There was a fender bender over on Davis and Canal. ETA is about 15 minutes,” he said, his gaze never leaving her face. “Brett. C’mere.”

“I told you I’m fine – “

He ignored her protests, pulling her back into a hug and resting his chin on top of her head. She remained stiff but he persisted, holding her still until she relaxed a bit in his arms. “I’ve decided something. With Katie living in Colorado, I need a younger sister to harass and protect. That’s now you.”

She sputtered in surprise, shoving him away enough to glare up at him. “What? But – “

“No arguments. This is happening,” he said cheerfully. “You obviously need someone who will poke and prod at you once in a while or else you’ll explode, like just now.” He pretended to wring out his shirt, hiding his grin as she sputtered. “I have years of experience poking at Casey, so I’m an expert.”

She groaned. “I still talk to Katie, you know. She’s been thinking about coming back to Chicago to go the Art Institute for her Masters in Culinary Arts. Problem solved.”

“C’mon Brett,” he cajoled in a more serious tone. “This will be a good thing for the both of us. I am offering a purely platonic, tell it how it is, no judgement as much as possible, friendship. We both need a friend like that, admit it.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying his face for a long moment. “Fine.” She signed resignedly. I’m probably going to regret this.”

He grinned. “That’s what brothers are for.”

Headlights appeared in the distance, signaling the arrival of the DoT guy so Brett simply rolled her eyes in response as they moved forward to wave the truck closer. It only took a few minutes to show them where the carcass was, so they were soon back on the road, heading into the city.

“You wanna head to Molly’s, or am I dropping you off at home?” Severride said. “I’m buying.”

“Then I guess I’m drinking.”

It was still early, so the bar was in full swing when they arrived. Severride scanned the crowd. “I’ll meet you over at Casey’s table,” he said, spotting the familiar tow head. “What are you drinking?”

Brett smirked up at him, her eyes now bright with mischief. “The pinkest, fruitiest thing on the menu, big brother of mine. Kidd knows just how I like it, so make sure you order it from her personally.”

They both knew that his girlfriend would leap at the opportunity to bust his balls.

Severride shook his head admiringly, grinning. “Well played, Sylvie Brett. Well played.”

She winked up at him. “Extra strawberries, please. Thanks!” She said cheerfully, ducking into the crowd.

He maneuvered his way to the bar, where Kidd leaned over for a kiss before smirking at him. “Whatcha drinking?”

“Beer for me, another of whatever Casey is drinking, and Brett’s pink frou frou drink,” he replied easily. “Extra strawberries.”

She pouted at him for not playing along, but obligingly began grabbing the ingredients. “You guys find what you were looking for?”

“Yup. Took pictures and called the DoT, so there’s a report linked with the incident.” He told her, watching with interest as she efficiently mixed Brett’s drink. “I’ll stop by the hospital tomorrow to talk to the mother.”

She nodded. “And the other issue?”

He glanced over at Brett, who was laughing and gesturing animatedly as Casey and Foster watched in amusement. “Also resolved. I decided she needs an older brother to harass her.”

Kidd laughed. “How’d she take that?”

He accepted the beers and the drink with a grin. “About as you’d expect. I don’t think she believes that I was serious, so I’m going to have to prove her wrong.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she said fondly. “Go on. I’m off at one. Give me a ride home?”

He nodded. “I may have to drop Brett off first, but if you don’t mind waiting…”

“As long as you make it worth my time,” she purred.

“I always do,” he winked, and left to join his friends.

**

“What do you think about the new chaplain?” Kidd called from the bathroom a few days later as Severride lounged on the bed, idly scrolling through his phone.

“Hadn’t given him a thought one way or another,” he replied distractedly, not really listening.

She padded out into the bedroom in her sleep shirt, which was actually one of his t-shirts, her hair wrapped and put up for the night. She loved her curls, as did Kelly, but there had been too many nights of entanglements and accidental near suffocation to not try to tame and contain the beast overnight.

“Foster is trying to set Brett up with him,” she said. “Apparently they – Foster and Sheffield – knew each other when she was in residence at Lakeshore. Says he’s a good guy.”

Severride glanced over at her. “You don’t agree?”

She grimaced. “I’m sure he’s perfectly nice,” she allowed, making it sound like an insult. “And maybe a good rebound relationship to get Brett back into the swing of things. I don’t think that he’s her ultimate type though.”

He frowned. “Not that I’m truly interested in Brett’s love life, but you made a decision about this guy within five minutes of meeting him?”

She shrugged, snuggling under the covers with him and tucking her head under his chin. “Brett is my best friend. I know her better than she thinks. She attracts safe, boring guys who see how sweet she is and think ‘wife’ and ‘homemaker’ and ‘stay at home mom’. They don’t realize until it’s too late that she’s just as much of a smoke eater in her own way as the rest of us. Total adrenaline junkie.”

“Takes one to know one.” He teased. “I take it that you have your own thoughts about who Brett should be dating?”

She craned her head to look up at him. “I think she and Casey would eventually be a good fit, actually.”

“Casey and Brett?” he repeated incredulously, sitting up. “She’s the complete opposite of what he usually goes for.”

She smirked, nodding. “Exactly. She could be exactly what he needs.”

He was silent, mulling it over. “He’s too busy sniffing after that reporter chick.”

Kidd shrugged, tugging him back down. “I didn’t mean that they were perfect for each other right now. They both have some lingering residue from their respective relationships with the Dawson siblings. But someday in the future, if things work out…” she shrugged again. “They might need a sisterly – or brotherly – push to get things going.”

She felt his soft laughter as they settled into sleep. “I’ll keep that in mind.”


End file.
